


Worst Assassin Ever

by rvst



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-31
Updated: 2015-03-31
Packaged: 2018-03-20 13:25:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3651999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rvst/pseuds/rvst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The stories said they never hesitated when a hunter decided on their prey. No mercy, soldiers returning from scouting in the forests would whisper when they thought the child princess couldn't hear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Worst Assassin Ever

Father died. Mother was left without a claim to the throne. There was just Lydia, her only child. The daughter the kingdom had never seen, not since her presentation upon her birth.

 

The young woman was beyond reasonable marrying age, far too sheltered by her father and left alone for months at a time by her mother. Coronation would come soon, it had to, other lands would invade if her own was left without a leader for much longer.

 

Assassins already stalked the halls and passages of her castle, looking to end her family's reign over the kingdom. They were surely highly paid, the mission was suicidal at best. The princess kept herself well-guarded. One might be able to get close enough to murder her, none could get away alive after the deed was done.

 

Lydia went to bed each night with an ironclad sense of safety. Her mother still insisted that the people not see her face before her coronation. Lydia should be presented to the people in a formal event of grand significance. To see her otherwise would cheapen her station in life.

 

Lydia agreed for the most part, though her acquiescence to the decision stemmed from her own fear of the outside world. The young princess could not remember what life outside the castle's giant walls was like to see. Trees were planted around the grounds so she could connect to nature, yet a forest was nearly beyond her imagination. All you could see from her room high in a tower was a distant tint of green on the horizon.

 

She went to bed each night dreaming of the wilderness.

 

Her coronation was tomorrow. She would be queen in less than a full day, and it terrified her to death. Lydia was raised to lead, but unlike the princes of neighboring kingdoms she was raised for sly diplomacy. Not war, nor economics, nothing that she would need to rule by herself.

 

A spouse of any kind would potentially invalidate her rule. Mother was clear that this wasn't an option.

 

Lydia tried to sleep. She'd been for three guard-heavy walks, each more sluggish than the last. Two visits to the kitchen, first for warm milk and second for wine to dull her thoughts. Nothing worked. The midnight hour came and went and still she lay awake. A gentle breeze flowed through her open window, the scent of the distant forests lulling Lydia into a daze.

 

Her thoughts fell silent, her eyes grew heavy. Sleep was finally upon her.

 

A creaking as loud as a thunderclap broke the silence of her bedroom. Lydia was wide awake and sitting upright.

 

The shape of a human standing in the darkness had appeared at the end of her bed. By the curves, Lydia's panicking mind informed her that it was a female intruder into her night. She couldn't breath. The dull leather was barely visible in the dim light of the moon, her hood was drawn to prevent identification. A bow was drawn in her hands, pointed at Lydia.

 

The woman was a hunter. One of the wild people of the forests. Lydia grew up being read stories painting them as the boogeymen of the night, and the first and possibly last one she comes across is thus far living up to the stories with flying colours.

 

The hunter woman stood at the end of her bed, bow in hand and drawn ready to kill Lydia in the blink of an eye. Lydia stared into the darkness underneath her hood, wanting to look her murderer in the eyes before she died. None of the guards had so much as stirred. No alarm was raised. The woman must have scaled the building to get into Lydia's bedroom without alerting anyone.

 

Either that, or all the men and woman outside the room were dead. Their blood, and soon to be her own blood, were on this woman's hands.

 

She was hesitating, Lydia noticed. There was no way that Lydia's own panic was slowing down her perception of time this far, the hunter was stopping before she killed her prey.

 

The stories said they never hesitated when a hunter decided on their prey. No mercy, soldiers returning from scouting in the forests would whisper when they thought the child princess couldn't hear.

 

The hunter's chest rose and fell quickly, evidence of her long climb or bloody murders. The bow wavered in her hands, muscles no doubt straining with the force required to keep her weapon drawn. Lydia wished she would get on with it, the weight of waiting stopping her heart and bringing it up into her throat.

 

She still wasn't dead over a minute later, Lydia's heart managed to calm itself down in this time. The hunter lowered her bow slightly, shifting her feet awkwardly.

 

"You're the princess?" Lydia's heart kicked up again. Her voice was delightful, her disbelief so out of place with the image she presented. The bow fell to her side and the arrow went back into her quiver. "Get up, now!"

 

The hunter kept her hood pulled over her head. She moved to Lydia's still-open window and shut it firmly.

 

Lydia flicked her eyes over the woman, spying a sword, a crossbow, and three different smaller blades strapped to her body in various places. Hunters rarely traveled lightly armed, but five weapons on display suggested the woman was expecting a fight on her way in. Or the way out.

 

"No one will think you came in through the window, I promise," commented Lydia. The hunter stopped her movement for a second. Her head turned, the hood barely giving away the movement.

 

"I don't want anyone to follow me in," the hunter explained. Lydia found herself moving to get out of her bed like the lady with the many weapons asked, but physically paused to consider the implications of her words.

 

"Are you expecting company on your assassination?" Lydia asked flippantly. The hunter scoffed at her question.

 

"Perhaps, get dressed. Warmly. Do not scream."

 

The hunter carefully made her way to the doorway. She opened it silently and quickly grabbed both men guarding Lydia's door. They fell to the floor inside her bedroom, unconscious and still. Lydia's mouth fell open. The hunter shut the door again and turned back to, she presumed, glared at Lydia.

 

"Dressed. Now," she hissed. Lydia took the order with speed and grace. The evidence of the hunter's skill frightened her more than having an arrow aimed at her head, death was easy, pain was scary.

 

Her warmest coat wrapped around her, Lydia stared at the hunter expectantly. The other woman had spent the time it took Lydia to get ready carefully tying up the two men against a wall.

 

Lydia wanted to scream. The odd behaviour of the hunter woman was the only thing that was stopping her. An assassin who hesitated even after the target saw them was bound to be unpredictable in their reactions. Lydia would wait until they were outside, and there were people around.

 

The woman dragged her out of her bedroom and into the castle's endless halls. Lydia went along with it, plotting her getaway all the way.

 

* * *

 

 

The hunter gripped her arm nearly to the point of pain. Lydia couldn't see her face, even as she was dragged through the halls of her own castle. Her questions were met with annoyed grunts.

 

"How much are you being paid?"

 

The hunter stopped, pulling Lydia into an alcove. The breath left her lungs as she collided with the hard stone walls. She pressed herself against the princess and Lydia got her first decent look at the hunter's face.

 

Lydia hadn't seen many women during her life. The guards in the castle were mostly men. The ministers of men. Her only frame of reference for women were the ones in the books of art Father brought her from his many travels around the world.

 

In her limited experience and opinion, the most beautiful woman on the planet broke into her bedroom and kidnapped her. Lydia supposed it was better than being assassinated by her.

 

"I have no idea," the hunter admitted quietly. The light from a distant lantern lit up the woman's face just enough so that Lydia could see the deep frown she wore. "Not nearly enough."

 

Lydia didn't have time to think about it, they were off again. The hunter must have heard a guard or a wandering inhabitant of the castle. Lydia had heard nothing.

 

"Do you have a plan?" The hunter's hand tightened to the point of pain. "Never mind!"

 

"Will you be quiet?" Lydia wanted to trip the woman. It wouldn't be hard. Trip her then scream. The guards would come and kill her where she stood. "You're going to get us killed."

 

Lydia stopped walking, though the hunter's grip on her arm pulled her forwards against her will. "What do you mean 'us'?"

 

Shouting echoed through the castle. The hunter spun around in alarm, training her superior hearing on the men and whatever was causing the alarm. Lydia could hear the voices, but couldn't quite decipher what they were saying. The hunter ceased her confused spinning, and moved her hand from Lydia's upper arm to her waist, dragging her off down the way they just came.

 

The sky was lightening, dawn approached as the hunter finally navigated them both out of the castle, slipping through an exit Lydia didn't know existed.

 

"So you do have a plan?" Lydia tried again. The hunter grunted in a positive manner this time. Lydia took that as progress and considered how she was going to get the attention of a guardsman outside of the castle.

 

"My people always have a plan," the hunter explained shortly. Lydia wanted her to speak more, to hear her voice again.

 

"And your people are?" This question earned her another harsh pull from the hunter. "You see that I'm cooperating, right? Or are your people all rough little savages, hunter?"

 

That one was a carefully planned assault on her cool to provoke a response, something Father taught her in one of her few diplomatic lessons.

 

"It's Allison."

 

Lydia nearly stopped again. She didn't remember what name she pictured for the hunter woman, but it certainly wasn't one quite so pretty. Lydia forced herself to forget it all the same. Princesses shouldn't know the names of their potential assassins. It seemed tacky, and wrong in a way Lydia couldn't even describe.

 

"That's not a no," she cut back. People were starting to rise in the village that surrounded the castle, Lydia watched them scurry about with interest. Anything was interesting aside from the number of weapons the hunter could kill her with at any given moment.

 

The hunter growled again. Savage, Lydia thought with smug superiority. She seemed to notice a couple of curious stares shot their way, even farmers and bakers could read one person dragging another by the arm. Her hand released Lydia's arm for a brief and glittering moment. Lydia's chest was light and free until the same hand grasped her low on her waist. The gesture was far to intimate for her liking.

 

"Remind me why I shouldn't scream for help, hunter?" Lydia asked with false pleasantness. The woman, whose name she refused to allow purchase in her mind, tightened her grip on Lydia's waist in response. Lydia could feel the point of the blade hidden up her sleeve digging into her flesh as the fingers splayed wider on her body. "Someone is bound to hear me."

 

The hunter growled, the noise rumbling deep inside her chest. "Your mother has convinced the people that you've died, that my people killed you and took the body with us."

 

Lydia glared at the side of her hood-covered head, annoyed that her hearing was far superior to her own. “You can't possibly-”

 

“Apparently, it happened before midnight last night,” the hunter cut her off effectively. A tense underlying tone to her voice had Lydia immediately back on edge. The hand at her side seemed protective at the implications of her words.

 

“That's not-”

 

“We're good, but killing someone five hours before any of us arrived at the castle is taking it a bit far.”

 

The hunter didn't seem to be talking to her anymore, it was much closer to thinking out loud. Although her words did ping something in Lydia's mind.

 

“There's more than one of you after me?”

 

The hunter stopped dead, Lydia was forced to stop along with her. She pulled back her hood when more than one person's gaze lingered on them for more than a few moments. Lydia ignored the gentle tug in her stomach at the hunter's looks in the light of morning. She was just sheltered, and lonely.

 

“I went into to castle alone, though others stayed outside if I failed,” the hunter admitted, placing her free hand on her hip and actually pouted. “Apparently, I am not to be trusted to get things done,” she finished without a hint of irony in her voice.

 

“I am suspiciously alive for a 'done' person,” she pointed out, knowing that it could get her killed. Being outside made her forget about the problems of her morning. Ineffectual assassin aside, she'd had a great day thus far. “Do you have a superior to explain that to?”

 

The hunter started moving again, she pulled at Lydia's waist with far more force than was strictly necessary. “Of course I do.”

 

That was the last thing she said until they were out of the village.

 

The fact that this woman's people would be quite that organised was news to Lydia. The hunters were notoriously nomadic and without law nor organization. One of them deciding to carry out an assassination without any regard for anyone else seemed perfectly natural to the princess.

 

Lydia listened to the men and women in the village mourn her supposed passing. News travelled even faster outside the castle than it did inside, which amazed the princess to no end. The common people seemed to care about a young woman they'd never even seen. Clearly, she walked passed every last one of them and not one spared her a second glance.

 

The hunter pulled her all the way to the edge of the forests. Lydia's heart hammered in her chest. This was amazing to her. Outside and going into the wilds was all she dreamed of growing up.

 

“Is this the part where I'm ritually sacrificed by your tribe?” Lydia whispered when the hunter seemed to hesitate at the barrier between the fields and the forests. “Because walking me to my death seems like a little bit too much work, hunter.”

 

“Again, it's Allison,” the hunter snapped at her with a long suffering sigh. She carefully guided Lydia into the forest. “We don't do that kind of thing.”

 

“But assassination is fine, Allison?” Lydia used her name deliberately, mocking her for insisting.

 

Hunters seemed to growl a lot, in Lydia's limited experience. This particular one growled and grumbled all the way to a tiny camp set up in the middle of the forest. Lydia's feet hurt and the heat of the day was boiling her blood, but hearing her would-be assassin, now kidnapper, mope and moan brought her spirits up to the sky.

 

* * *

 

 

Allison finally relinquished her hold on Lydia's waist once they arrived in what the princess presumed to be her temporary home. Lydia stared unabashedly as the hunter immediately went about starting a fire and preparing herself breakfast.

 

“I could run, and you're just going to let me?” Lydia asked, not even remotely serious.

 

Allison shrugged, cracking several eggs into her well-worn frying pan over the fire. “There's a pack of werewolves in the area, guards out searching for anyone suspicious, and you have no idea where you are,” she explained without looking at Lydia. “I led you in circles and you didn't notice.”

 

“I figured you were, didn't want to say anything.”

 

“Sure, princess,” Allison mocked her gently. Lydia was nearly assassinated and somehow the hunter looked more exhausted than she did. “I don't suppose I can sleep without you trying to kill me?”

 

Lydia's eyes widened so far, she thought they would fall out of her head. “Why would I do that?”

 

Allison looked at her like she was insane. She tossed her breakfast around in the pan and divided it onto two plates that she produced from a leather pack. “I tried to kill you?”

 

“You failed, horribly,” Lydia pointed out, she would never stop drawing attention to that fact as long as they were together. Hiding together. Not together-together. Lydia shook herself free of the butterflies fluttering around inside of her. Not helping. “Worst assassin ever.”

 

“Do you want me to kill you?” Allison drew one of her many intimidating knives that didn't even start to scare Lydia anymore. She waved it around vaguely until getting distracted by her food. “I have been awake all night and castle walls aren't easy to scale, so.”

 

“Look, climbing an entire tower is all very romantic and the trying to kill me thing is extremely little boy who can't process his feelings,” Lydia started in her airiest voice, flouncing over to sit reasonably close to the hunter. “But we only just met, and I can't possibly accept whatever weird hunter marriage proposal you're doing. It's too soon.”

 

Allison smiled. The delirium of a night without rest had sent all seriousness from them both, driving the tension away.

 

“For all you know, I am a hunter princess and a perfectly appropriate candidate for your hand,” Allison joked back.

 

“Sure you are,” Lydia agreed sarcastically. “Get some sleep, princess.”

 

Allison shovelled the food into her mouth so quickly that Lydia was maddeningly worried about her safety, and practically collapsed into her bed.

 

“Try not to get lost while I'm asleep!”

 

Lydia couldn't help but smile as the woman fell asleep almost instantly. If living in the forest led to the kind of skills that allowed you to sleep whenever you wanted, through force of will alone, then sign her up immediately.

 

How did hunter marriage proposals work anyway?

 

She shook herself free of this fleeting notion and settled against a sturdy looking log and allowed her sudden exhaustion take her away.

 

* * *

 

 

Lydia enjoyed her daytime rest. Sleeping during the day wasn't something she'd ever done after she turned six, but waking in the afternoon close to a pretty hunter woman wasn't the worst thing that ever happened to her.

 

Allison was already awake and bent over the still-burning fire. She had a pot on a metal structure and was stirring it while occasionally raising a book to her eyes. The hunter didn't notice Lydia, so she took the opportunity to observe the woman in her natural habitat.

 

Lydia stared openly as long fingers deftly grabbed at herbs and spices for her cooking while turning the pages in her book. Lydia absolutely did not think about why this fascinated her, the attempted assassination replaying over and over again in the back of her mind.

 

“When you learn to hunt for your own food, one of the first things my people teach is to know when you're being observed,” Allison stated suddenly, her tone and volume even. Lydia felt her cheeks grow hot, annoyed at being caught.

 

“What're you making?” Lydia called back at her, trying to distract them both from her keen interest. “And is there enough for me?”

 

Allison laughed. Lydia gave up all pretence of not being interested immediately. She sat up to better see the source of the sound.

 

The day passed peacefully. In near-silence. Lydia found she didn't mind the silence as much as she usually did. She tried not to smile too much, to stare too long. Allison had no such reservations, making her interest without a hint of shame.

 

If Lydia ended up sleeping mere feet away from Allison, she certainly didn't feel any guilt.

 

* * *

 

 

Allison said they were waiting for the furore to die down surrounding the 'death' of the princess. Lydia saw right through it, but let the hunter have her lie anyway.

 

She would be lying if she wasn't interested in this woman who basically spirited her away from everything she'd ever known.

 

“How did you know where I was? Why were you even trying to kill me? Is there a hunter coup coming that literally no one can see coming?”

 

Allison clearly was unaware of just how curious Lydia could be, though she was taking the barrage of questioning with grace.

 

“I don't know the answers to any of that,” she answered carefully. “My father made the deal and my mother gives the orders as leader. I am little more than a foot soldier.”

 

Lydia directed even more of her attention towards Allison, abandoning her dinner to focus properly. “Are you a princess? I thought you were kidding.”

 

“We don't subscribe to that kind of title system, but sure,” Allison agreed, not diverting one iota from her own food.

 

“Do you know why, at least?” Lydia asked one last question. Really the only one she wanted an actual answer for.

 

"Private contract," she grunted by way of answering. Lydia threw her shoe at the hunter's head. Allison ducked it without spilling a single drop of her soup. "Don't know who from, but we got paid up front."

 

Lydia carefully checked the area around their campsite for signs of other human life. Allison didn't appear to notice the sudden edge to Lydia's demeanour. If she was only alive because one hunter couldn't bring herself to commit cold-blooded murder, Lydia probably wouldn't fare as well against a whole group of them.

 

"Who exactly is 'we'?" Lydia asked, carefully shifting away from the reclining woman.

 

Allison snorted. "Relax, 'we' is my family. Hunters work in family groups, only way to ensure trust," she reassured lazily. "They aren't going to jump out from behind a tree and kill you. We don't want you dead."

 

Lydia had already figured that out, though it was nice to hear the other woman actually say it.

 

"The contract wasn't for me, I presume?" Allison could say it some more, Lydia figured. The smug smirk she wore whenever they passed her kingdom's guards infuriated her to no end. "And you have no idea who it came from?"

 

Lydia's shoe came flying right back at her, catching her in the stomach.

 

"It was for a minister. Was told not to look at which," Allison answered as shortly as possible. Lydia rubbed her stomach. "Should have been a bit more suspicious."

 

"Really?"

 

Allison glared at her, sipping at her soup and boiling in her rage. "If you're hair wasn't so eye-catching, you would be dead."

 

The danger of her day thus far struck Lydia right between her eyes.

 

“I don't believe that,” Lydia whispered, staring directly into the hunter's eyes. “You weren't going to kill me.”

 

Allison glanced at one of her heavy boots, toeing at it like she was going to removing for prime throwing material. “Sure I was.”

 

“Were not,” Lydia countered.

 

“Are all princesses five years old?”

 

“Do you often stare at other girls' asses?”

 

Allison choked on her soup. She cleared her throat after minutes of coughing and hacking. “Yes, but you are the first princess.”

 

Lydia's entire body dropped into a pit of spikes. A million points of jealously hit her all at once. Allison's face burning bright red didn't distract her from her own irrational freak-out.

 

“Oh,” Lydia couldn't help but sigh.

 

“General preference, princess, not speaking from grand experience,” Allison awkwardly tried to reassure her companion. “Figuring out who wants you dead is far more important than whether or not I think you're cute.”

 

“Am I likely to be murdered out here?” Lydia asked. She moved to sit directly next to Allison, causing them both to flush at the sudden proximity. “By anyone but you, I mean?”

 

Allison shifted, trying to find a place of comfort. “No but we need to go back eventually, you have to go and be queen.”

 

“Or I stay here and shack up with the hot hunter girl, both are equally good plans,” Lydia countered, effectively steam rolling Allison out of her attempt at seriousness. “Plus, I don't have to face the fact that my own mother is claiming I'm dead without a body.”

 

“Someone is trying to kill you, and take your crown, and all you can focus on is,” Allison finished by waving a hand vaguely around in a circle. Lydia restrained the laughter that wanted to escape. The longer she stayed in the forest, the less she respected her past self for being afraid of this truly ridiculous woman.

 

“Have you seen you?”

 

“I'm not denying anything here, just trying to realign your priorities,” Allison said carefully. “We figure out who hired us, then we go take them back.”

 

Lydia allowed a childish pout to form on her lips.

 

“The minute you have a crown on your head and I can mount the bastard's head on a wall somewhere, then we'll talk about shacking up or whatever.”

 

Lydia was all of a sudden deeply interested in her own self preservation and a robust sense of justice.

 

* * *

 

 

"There are many other kingdoms who want me dead," Lydia tried to explain to the pacing woman. Allison seemed to ignore her and continue wearing a ditch into dirt. "Seriously, I'm kind of sure my own mother wanted to kill me for the crown."

 

Allison stopped suddenly and turned to face Lydia, finger raised and mouth opening to speak.

 

"My mother did not try to kill me, Argent!"

 

Allison held her hands up in surrender. "I am just saying that she clearly has the most to gain here!"

 

"She would need a husband of royal blood to marry to get at my throne anyway," argued Lydia dismissively. "They don't come calling for middle aged women past the point of childbearing all too often."

 

Allison sat where she was standing, groaning with exhaustion as her feet were given a rest. "They do if they don't plan on her surviving very long and they already have an heir waiting to legitimize their rule."

 

That was by far the most intelligent and well-read thing Lydia had heard her kidnapper say in all two days of knowing her, which was saying something because the lessons on fire starting involved a whole tirade about one method over the other.

 

"She's dead a week after the wedding, and she paid your family to kill me to get herself killed."

 

Allison scrambled over the ground to Lydia's side. Lydia's eyes remained fixed on the fire, hollow and desolate. Mother was pretty much all she had left after Father died, and was also the likely candidate for buying her death.

 

"She wouldn't do that to you," Allison tried, lifting her hand several times to comfort her more effectively. "Or if she did-"

 

Lydia didn't move as Allison trailed off. She poked the hunter in to stomach to prompt her into continuing.

 

“She probably regrets it?” Allison's voice wavered. Obvious lie. Lydia let her get away with it, too tired to fight.

 

“I can think of seventeen men of royal blood with grown heirs just off the top of my head,” Lydia stated without emotion. She stared off into nothing, her face blank.

 

“So we storm the castle,” Allison was on her feet and pacing again. “It is not very hard.”

 

Lydia smiled for the first time in hours.

 

“When you get back, you need to work on security, it's shit,” Allison teased with an air of playfulness that set Lydia at ease. “I got in through an open window!”

 

Lydia mock-glared at her. “When we get back, you are in charge of that.”

 

Now it was Allison's turn to pout. “I thought I was going to be like consort or something, though they are going to call me a pet either way.”

 

“I was kidding! I can't ask you to leave your family,” Lydia exclaimed, jumping to her feet to crash into Allison's taller form. “Who sent you to kill a person without telling you who ordered them killed.”

 

“They mean well,” Allison defended half-heartedly. She toyed with a chain around her neck, drawing a coin from inside her light shirt. “And your mother is actively trying to kill you, so hush, glass house.”

 

Lydia laced their fingers together, drawing comfort from the calloused fingers of her hunter. “You, me, and a castle at noon.” Allison dropped her coin, plated silver with the word 'Argent' printed across it, and allowed Lydia to stare at it openly.

 

“I don't think you can climb in like I did,” Allison theorised casually after long minutes of quietly drawing strength from each other. “So we sneak in the back way.”

 

Lydia kissed her cheek and allowed herself to be led to their shared bedding on the forest floor.

 

Sneaking into her castle was apparently the easiest thing in the world to her hunter.

 

* * *

 

 

Lydia was concerned about the state of security in her castle. When they were done, she would have to make Allison deal with the massive holes in their defences. Or Allison was stupidly good at getting them in and out of the building.

 

Either way, starting tomorrow, she would have to fix it. They got in quickly and quietly.

 

Allison grabbed a guard by the scruff of his neck and threw him easily into Lydia's bedroom. Lydia missed her bedroom during her time away from home. Only one person had tried to kill her in here, and she'd done everything in her power to protect Lydia ever since.

 

“Who will the former queen be marrying?” Allison demanded without preamble.

 

“A wolf man,” the guard squeaked.

 

Allison slammed the man into the wall, rendering him unconscious instantly. Lydia strangled a squeal, still unused to how violent sweet, soft Allison could be. The woman who came within the loosing of an arrow of killing a princess hid herself well inside her charming exterior.

 

"You're only going to ask him one question?" Lydia kept herself calm by observing how Allison was holding herself, taking her cues from the other woman. Allison quickly checked all of her weapons, of which Lydia now knew she had more than ten.

 

"The only werewolf leader within striking distance of this castle is Peter Hale, who is more than capable of seducing your mother into having you killed," Allison explained as she tied the guard securely to Lydia's bed. "He is also one of the few who would know the best way to get to you would be to-"

 

"Hire some hunter princess?"

 

Allison didn't respond. She sighed, her shoulders slumping.

 

"The key point here is that you suck at your job," Lydia tried to add some levity. Allison perked up slightly, giving Lydia the elated sense of satisfaction imagining her smile brought. "While also being epic at it."

 

Lydia walked over to her window to check that she was as high up as she thought she remembered. She could feel Allison's eyes follow her with barely concealed hunger. "What are you doing?"

 

Lydia opened to window and looked directly down with her general barely contained curiosity. "You climbed this in the middle of the night?"

 

Allison cleared her throat, embarrassed. "It was the best way into your bedroom," she explained economically. Lydia turned to face her slowly, smirk growing upon her lips.

 

"I'm sure there are much easier ways into my bedroom, if you try really hard," Lydia suggested, advancing on her hunter with precise swings of her hips. Allison didn't react as much as Lydia would have liked. "Really, nothing?"

 

"Where does your mother take her lunch?" Allison asked, showing a previously hidden ability to resist Lydia's charms. Lydia pouted to no avail.

 

"Usually she's in the observatory," she answered flatly, pointing in what was probably the right direction.

 

Allison was on her feet, across the little space between them, and into Lydia's personal space before Lydia could decide on a suitable punishment for being ignored. Allison's hands were in her hair and her lips moved slowly, trying to convey everything she felt in the smallest space of time possible.

 

Lydia stopped thinking about ways to punish her hunter. She melted into the kiss and Allison's arms without a hint of self-consciousness.

 

Allison pulled away just far enough to speak. "We go to her, and then we make her admit to trying to kill you."

 

Lydia moaned with pleasure and annoyance as Allison moved her hands out of her hair and down to rub her arms comfortingly. "Then we go hide in the forest for a few years?"

 

Allison chuckled. "No, then we get her to introduce you to the masses, and retire here to celebrate."

 

Lydia pretended to consider her offer, pecking her lips as she thought. "Sounds fair."

 

They reluctantly parted and navigated carefully towards the observatory.

 

* * *

 

 

Guards swarmed outside the observatory. Lydia felt that Mother was going a little bit too far with her paranoia, but she would be dead if anyone aside from Allison was sent to kill her so maybe more protection was a good idea. It didn't stop her hunter.

 

The seven men barely slowed her down.

 

Allison was careful not to cause any lasting harm to any of the men. They were just doing their job, and she was apparently incapable of killing a person.

 

Lydia barely had time to breath before Allison was through the men and literally kicking in the door. Lydia could hear Mother shrieking for more guards to come and rescue her from the beast at her door.

 

She stopped suddenly when her supposedly dead daughter sauntered in behind the wild woman.

 

Mother spotted the silver coin the Argent family all wore around their necks, probably recognised it from when she hired Allison's father. That shut her up instantaneously. It even halted her mounting horror at seeing Lydia alive and well and back in the castle.

 

"Hello, Mother," Lydia greeted amicably. Allison kept two blades drawn, carefully watching the older woman as if she was about to develop decades of close-combat experience. "Yes or no, you hired Charles-"

 

"Chris."

 

"Right, Chris Argent to kill me so you can take my crown and marry some werewolf man?"

 

The woman remained silent. Stunned by the sudden turn of events. Or plotting an escape. Either way.

 

Lydia stepped further into the room, prompting her mother into action.

 

"You're too young to rule, sweetie," her Mother tried to start her defense. Allison tucked her blades away and pulled out her bow, drawing an arrow calmly. She looked calm at least. Lydia could feel the silent fury rolling off Allison's body.

 

"I'm taking that as a confession," Allison snarled. Lydia briefly wondered what this would look like in five or ten years. She decided that she liked the idea of Allison protecting her for the next however long.

 

"I am doing the best for this kingd-"

 

Allison shot the arrow.

 

The arrow hit the wall next to the older woman's head. Allison had another one drawn before Mother was done screaming her surprise at actually being shot at. She was big and brave until pressed lightly. Allison's face tensed with stony silence and assured resolve.

 

"Killing her won't change anything. She'll just be dead," Lydia said quietly at Allison's side. Her hair fluttered in the breeze as she tilted her head curiously towards the princess. "Don't."

 

Allison's jaw moved as she clenched her teeth together, her eyes narrowing at the whimpering woman before her. "Is that an order?"

 

Lydia wanted to say yes. Allison would comply. She'd accepted Lydia's right to rule over the forests her family called home, she was a subject just like the castle guards, like a soldier. She didn't.

 

Allison flinched as Lydia's hand came to rest on her shoulder. She glanced at the princess for a split second. "Is that-?"

 

"No, if your sense of justice demands you kill her, then I won't stop you," Lydia answered, keeping her hand right where it was. She wasn't about to let Allison forget she was there. "I won't hold it against you either, no grudge, no revenge."

 

Allison's muscles coiled underneath her heavy jacket, pulling at the drawstring to the point of near-snapping. Lydia heard the wooden bow creaking, remaining unmoved as Allison shook with the stress upon her body.

 

Lydia brought her other hand to rest at the small of Allison's back, making herself even more known to her hunter.

 

"I will not ask you to do this, and I will not ask you to stop," she whispered, pulling herself to fit closer around Allison. "There are prisons to throw her into, purpose built for political criminals."

 

Allison, somewhere in her haze of rage, registered the underlying statement. Lydia could handle this her way. Violence and threat extermination wasn't the only option.

 

"She has supporters. They like Hale. Werewolves are strong, they could make great allies," Allison explained through her teeth. Not one of her muscles relaxed.

 

"You got into the bedroom of the crown princess and back out without a single guard noticing you," Lydia murmured, leaning close to Allison's ear. The hunter shivered slightly, her grip on her bow turning from white knuckled to painful. "I promise I can spin hunters as the better ally, less likely to order an assassination. Much safer."

 

The former queen's eyes darted wildly between the two young women before her, barely believing that her own daughter was negotiating with a feral hunter who was about to kill her. "Please-"

 

"Shut up!" Lydia snapped, her gaze vicious. The hunter didn't move except for a quirk of one eyebrow. "I am trying to have a conversation here, Mother."

 

Allison lowered the bow. With a deep exhale, she replaced the arrow in her quiver, though she didn't remove her eyes from Lydia's mother. "Do you have a deep, dark hole to throw her in?"

 

Lydia ceased her glaring to cheer at Allison's decision. "Why yes we do, my dear. We throw her in, and I go get me a crown."

 

Lydia turned to leave, but Allison remained rooted to her spot and lost herself in thought.

 

“Do I need to climb the outside of the castle again to propose?”

 

Lydia's mother was struck dumb by this forward hunter girl daring to speak such words to her daughter. Lydia herself smirked.

 

“Yes, obviously. Hunter princess or not, you have to go above and beyond for my hand and we will talk about my other conditions in the morning,” Lydia demanded with finality. Allison followed her closely, leaving the former queen to the guards.

 

* * *

 

 

Three weeks, one coronation, and no less than six different attempts at climbing to the highest room of the castle's tallest tower from the outside all passed as the kingdom settled into having a sole ruling monarch again.

 

The court was promptly assembled, though no one would approach their newly-crowned ruler due to the terrifying woman stood perpetually at her side. Allison was far more threatening to people who weren't Lydia. It was entertaining to the nth degree.

 

The doors to the throne room slammed open. Most people gathered in the room jumped. Neither Queen Lydia nor her knight or fiancé or pet or whatever the people were calling her today reacted in a visible manner.

 

Light flooded into the room, a small figure silhouetted in the doorway.

 

The closest either the queen or her intended came to reacting was Allison leaning casually against Lydia's throne. The woman walked slowly into the room, the confidence of her entrance diminishing by the second. People jumped away from her almost as if their instincts were driving them to it. Lydia eyed the heavy doors this tiny woman had pushed open with such force.

 

"She isn't human, is she?" Lydia asked her lover. Allison squinted to see clearly across the room and her eyes immediately widened with as much alarm as she ever managed.

 

"That," Allison started to answer, her voice seemingly far off in its distraction, "is a werewolf, an angry werewolf."

 

Lydia sat up straighter on her throne. Allison stood off to her left like she always did, though having her bow out and ready to be drawn at a moments notice was a new feature that concerned Lydia. She hadn't noticed the other woman move from directly beside her but Allison was actually competent when she didn't have to kill anyone.

 

"What does a werewolf want with me, or us?"

 

"No clue." Lydia frowned at her. Allison shrugged. "When they get too close to populated areas, we hunt them to herd them away or we kill them if they harm a human."

 

"That's not very diplomatic," Lydia noted without malice. The hunters had a warped sense of justice anyway. "Has however long doing that taught you anything about them?"

 

Allison shrugged again. "They don't like silver?"

 

"Big help, dear," she snapped, rising from her throne and waving off the rush of guards in front of her. The werewolf woman stepped carefully further into the throne room, her eyes darting around the room as if she'd never seen anything like it before. The boiling rage she radiated remained, only Lydia seemed to notice her hesitance, and how young she seemed.

 

Allison tensed up all over again as the girl took ever more confident steps towards the cluster of guards and the Queen behind them. Lydia held out a hand to stop her from being more threatening than she already was, it couldn't be helping whatever situation was developing. Allison snorted in quiet protest.

 

"I would like to ask for your help," the girl finally answered Lydia's question. Allison's curls flung to one side as her head cocked to the side in confusion. Lydia didn't smile, keeping her leadership face on. She spread her hands in an indication for the girl to continue. "To kill my father."

 

Allison had an arrow ready and aimed at the girl's heart in less than a moment. Now she was a credible threat. Lydia still waved her off, to her clear annoyance. "Seriously?"

 

Lydia ignored her. "And your father is?"

 

The girl stood perfectly straight and strong, all hesitance gone in an instant.

 

"Peter Hale."

 


End file.
